The Scent of Love
by JennyWren
Summary: Hermione never expected the hunt for Horcruxes to be fun. But now that Ron is gone, it is worse than she could have ever imagined. But is Ron really gone for good? One-Shot


**Disclaimer:** I don't own the characters, places etc. from "Harry Potter". I make no money with this story.

**Author's Note:** What, Jenny Wren writes HP fics as well? Oh yes, I do. This story was written several years ago in my native language, German, together with about a dozen other stories. After several people asked me to translate them into English, I have finally found the time to get started. This is the first story. It is M rated for a reason. There is sex (albeit in a rather non-explicit way, compared to some of my phics) and a little mild swearing towards the end. If you don't want to read about such things, I suggest you wait for one of my other stories. I'd love to get some feedback as to how you like it. Yours truly, Jenny Wren

_"Someday, when I'm awfully low,_

_When the world is cold,_

_I will feel a glow, just thinking of you..._

_And the way you look tonight"_

_(Frank Sinitra: "The way you look tonight")_

**The scent of love**

It always was the scent that woke up Hermione. That very special ingredient of Amortentia, the one which she would have never admitted to her classmates. It was soap, mixed with a little washing powder and some brand of aftershave, which he had probably got as a present. A rather ordinary scent, really. Yet to Hermione, it was the scent that made her knees turn to jelly. It was the scent of her big love. It was the scent of Ron.

She opened her eyes, and there he was. He gazed down on her, smiling.

"Ron," she whispered. "You're here. You've really come back."

"Of course I've come back," he replied. "I promised, didn't I?"

She nodded. Yes, he had promised it to her before he had left the last time. But still, she hadn't truly believed in it. It had simply been too good to be true, too good to repeat itself.

"I missed you so much," she said, her voice shaking ever so slightly.

"I missed you, too," he gave back. "Do you think it was easy for me, leaving you behind? But after all the trouble with Harry... There was no other way."

The mention of Harry startled Hermione.

"Harry?" she asked. "Where is he? Did he see you?"

"No, no," Ron comforted her hastily. "I've left a little... diversion for him outside. Flying stones, a few croaking branches... For the next hour, he'll be busy searching the bushes. We've got the whole tent, just for the two of us."

Hermione smiled, even though she felt bad about betraying Harry. But what else could they have done? The argument of the two boys had been so terrible that there was no chance of them making it up anytime soon. She could count herself lucky that Ron came to visit her at night-time, driven by the overwhelming urge to see her – an urge so strong that he managed to find her again and again, no matter how many spells against the Death Eaters they cast.

"Shall we get a little comfortable?" Ron asked eagerly.

A wave of his wand later, a fluffy white rug was spread on the floor. Rose petals were strewn across it, and the petroleum lamp cast a gentle light. If she was honest, Hermione wouldn't have thought it possible, but at the bottom of his soul, Ron was a right little romantic.

She got up from the chair in which she had fallen asleep, like so many times before, stretched her arms and legs and walked over to Ron. Lovingly, he wrapped his arms around her.

"My little Minny," he whispered tenderly. "How good to have you back!"

Hermione sighed happily. Minny... how she had missed that nickname. In Harry's presence, Ron had never dared use that special name. It would forever remind them of the day when he had first called her that – they day when they had had their first time together. Back then, on that warm summer's day in the Burrow. All tender, all gentle and without being disturbed in the slightest. Only later had Ron admitted to her how many excuses, promises and even bribes it had cost him to make sure that all members of his family would be out of the house.

But why was she thinking about the past now? That was a pastime for the long nights in which she was on guard duty, the nights in which Ron didn't come to visit her. At the moment, the present was much more promising.

Hermione beamed up at Ron, and in the next moment, their lips were united in a soft kiss. Ron had learned so much in the past months. That kiss couldn't be compared to the first ones, when their noses had collided painfully and Ron had thrust his tongue into her mouth like an out-of-control broomstick.

No, this was much better. Ron knew now that he had to be careful. Gently, he pushed his tongue between Hermione's lips, and she opened her mouth readily. Soon, their tongues were dancing a slow dance of love, while their hands were wandering over each other's hair and backs.

It was only after a few moments, when their long kiss had turned into a number of smaller ones, that Hermione noticed her wand, which she was still holding in her hand. She had nearly poked Ron in the back with it, but he hadn't complained. Well, he had had much better things to do...

Hermione giggled to herself. She had a good, if a little daring idea. Behind Ron's back, she waved her wand and thought of the right spell. The next moment, her clothes and Ron's had gone. They had folded themselves neatly into a pile in the corner of their tent.

Ron raised his eyebrows.

"Hermione," he mumbled, actually blushing slightly. "What...?"

Hermione smiled. When Ron looked at her with that adorable expression on his face, she didn't even feel embarrassed for standing in front of him naked. He had often told her that to him, she was the most beautiful girl in the world. _And much more beautiful than Fleur, of course_, as he had assured her more than once.

"I thought we could try it a little more quickly this time," she explained, her hand already on his chest. "And without distraction."

Of course, Ron knew what she was talking about. During their first time, several of the buttons on her blouse had fallen victim to his clumsy fingers. The mere memory made her giggle. Somehow, everything was much funnier when Ron was around.

"Are you laughing at me?" Ron growled. "You just wait, you little beast!"

He threw himself on top of her with all his power, which made both of them end up on the floor, and began to tickle her mercilessly. Hermione squirmed underneath him, but her attempts to fend him off were not meant seriously. Feeling his skin on hers was much too exciting.

Ron seemed to agree, for within minutes, the tickling had turned into wild kisses. Meanwhile, Ron's hands had found a new occupation. Possessively, they cupped Hermione's breasts.

Hermione's hands began to wander as well, if a little less wildly. Ron's body was more familiar to her now than at the beginning of their love, and still it was new and exciting. She loved discovering new ways of caressing him. She often lay awake at night, thinking about what she hadn't tried yet.

Like always, it didn't take much to make Ron excited. His arousal had been clearly visible the moment he had seen Hermione with her clothes off, and as her hand shyly found its way between his legs, he nearly lost it altogether.

Hermione knew that they didn't have much time. More than once, Ron had been finished before they had even started. A problem which he shared with many other boys. Hermione had read about it years before – it never ceased to amaze her what kinds of books the Hogwarts library had in store.

She was getting all tingly now as well. Ron had learned quickly how to make shivers run down her spine by a mere touch. No, it couldn't be compared to the clumsy (if endearing) fumbling they had started out with. It was... it was simply wonderful.

"Hermione..." Ron mumbled, his breath hot and heavy on her face. "May I... please..."

She nodded. Awkwardly, he propped himself up on top of her and brought his not-so-little friend in position. Hermione gulped. The moment was always exciting, but also a little scary. She closed her eyes, and moments later, she felt him inside her. A soft groan escaped her lips.

"Is everything all right?" she heard Ron's voice over her.

Again, she could only nod. Ron took it as a sign that he could begin to move. Quickly, he had built up a slow rhythm. Hermione enjoyed the rhythm of his motions and that special kind of being together.

In Ron's arms, she could simply let herself go. For once, no one expected her to have all the answers, to be in perfect control. She could simply be herself, with all her insecurities and all her passion. It was an incredible feeling of relief.

As always, Ron didn't take long till his motions sped up. With a loud moan, he reached the height of his arousal, then kept moving till Hermione was there, too. She was not as loud as Ron as she came. The intensity of her own feelings took her breath away. She'd have never believed that feelings could be so strong...

She didn't open her eyes until she had calmed down a little. Ron gazed down at her, his face red and his hair tousled. He was the most handsome boy in the world.

Hermione burst into tears.

"What's wrong, Minny?" Ron asked at once. "Did I... was I... wasn't it good for you?"

"Yes, yes, it was," she muttered. "It's just... you'll have to leave now... you'll leave me alone again..."

Ron nodded glumly and sank down next to her on the rug.

"I know, my sweet," he said. "But it's the only way. Harry and I... we just don't get along at the moment. And Harry needs you. He's lost without you. You have to stay with him."

"But I need you..." Hermione whispered.

"I will be back," Ron comforted her. "I promise."

"In that case, I'll go on brewing my contraception potion," Hermione smiled tearfully. "Can you at least stay till I've fallen asleep?"

"Of course," Ron assured her.

Gently, they helped each other get dressed, and Ron brought her to bed. With a content sigh, Hermione rolled up into a ball under the covers. Her hand seized Ron's and held it tight.

"I love you, Ron," she muttered, very sleepily.

"I love you, too, Hermione."

* * *

That had been close. He had barely made it outside. This time, they had taken much too long. Or maybe it hadn't been enough Polyjuice Potion. Anyway, he had already felt his whole body tingle when he had sat at Hermione's bed, and it had had nothing to do with sex. Now that he crawled out of the tent and got into hiding behind a tree, he felt his body change. A few painful minutes later, he was Harry again.

Completely exhausted, he sank down on a large rock. He could still feel the transformation in every bone. And that was not all. Like always, there was the bitter feeling of having betrayed Hermione. Hermione... the only person who still believed in him.

But that was just why he was doing it. He couldn't lose Hermione as well. He knew how desperately she missed Ron. Every night, he heard her suppressed sobs. Every morning, he saw her puffy red eyes and had to pretend that he didn't. He was sure that it was only her sense of duty that kept her at his side. And he had no idea which would be stronger in the long run: the sense of duty or the longing for Ron.

Initially, he had thought it was a pretty good idea. He'd change into Ron (who had left more than enough hairs on his pillow), come to Hermione at night-time, talk to her for a while and appeal to her sense of duty. That would give her the strength to stay with Harry.

Thinking about it now, he could only shake his head about himself. How stupid he had been! He should have known that she'd expect more from him than a few nice conversations and a couple of kisses. It was only logical. Hermione and Ron were head over heels in love with each other. It was natural that they had done more with each other than holding hands!

When he had first started it, he had had no idea how far the two of them had already gone, and frankly, he hadn't wanted to know it. Now he knew every detail. The source of that knowledge he found just as despicable as the rest of that farce: Hermione's diary. He hadn't even known that she had one until one night, it had more or less fallen at his feet. Hermione must have fallen asleep writing into it, and there it had been, filled with all the information he had needed. And he had seized his chance. Now he knew everything: what their first time had been like, how Ron called her, where she enjoyed being touched – everything.

As time went by, they had fallen into a certain routine. Every few days, Harry stole a hair from Ron's pillow, volunteered for the first watch and changed as soon as Hermione had fallen asleep. Then he went to her and did whatever they felt like. They didn't always make love. Sometimes, they only cuddled, or he let her cry on his shoulder. Once she was asleep again, he sneaked outside and waited till he had transformed back. The only thing he mustn't forget was to cast a slight confusion spell on her when he got back – just so strong that when she woke up, she wasn't entirely sure if she hadn't only dreamed it all. After all, it was not impossible that she'd meet Ron again, and he had to make sure that she didn't mention it.

A few more minutes, then Harry would have to return. But he couldn't leave yet. Not as long as he still had Hermione's enthralling scent in his nose and the feeling of her small warm hands on his skin. He hung his head in shame. He truly was a selfish pig. Most of the time, he managed to convince himself that he was only doing it for her benefit, but in that moment, he was too honest. Only out here, where no one could hear him, he said what he'd never be able to say as Harry... because Hermione only wanted to hear it from Ron.

"Oh damn it, Hermione," he whispered. "_I _love you, too..."

**The End**


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